Phoenix Rising: (40 page)

Ohmshidi and Franken were in the presidential quarters of the White House, watching a newscast on TV.

The program began with a full screen shot of the new national flag. The words
CMN, America Enlightened Truth Television
were keyed onto the screen, replaced by the words
Obey Ohmshidi
, then a reverent voice over intoned the opening lines.

Ohmshidi picked up the remote and clicked the TV off. He smiled at Franken.

“You did well,” he said. “I think, perhaps, those who would make a demonstration against me will get the message.”

“Thank you, Glorious Leader.”

“Of course there are those people down south to worry about. Where is it? Florida? The people that call themselves Phoenix Rising?”

“It is Alabama, Glorious Leader, and now they are calling themselves United Free America. We are monitoring them closely, but they are so isolated that I think we will see little from them.”

“It isn't enough merely to keep them isolated, National Leader Franken. I want them destroyed. It is not good to have any element that is so openly in rebellion. If we are to maintain absolute control over the country, then we must be prepared to put down any dissent, wherever it might be.”

“I will find their weakness, Glorious Leader, and when I do, we will exploit that weakness to crush them.”

“Good.” Ohmshidi walked over to the bar and poured two shots of whiskey. Handing one glass to Franken. “Islam and Moqaddas Sirata prohibit the consumption of alcohol,” he said. “Except for the chosen ones,” he added with a smile as he took a drink.

All up and down Parkway Street lawn sprinklers whispered as they worked, and the little bubbles of water that were clinging to the perfectly manicured grass flashed in prismatic colors. In the driveway of one house a father and son threw a baseball back and forth. Next door to the baseball-tossing father and son was a brick colonial house with four bedrooms and two and half baths. This house, like its neighbors, had a long backyard that ended at the bank of the Cane River. This was the house of John “Stump” Patterson, who, in the pre-O time had been a colonel in the U.S. Army.

Stump was standing in his backyard holding a large fork as he watched four steaks sizzling on the charcoal grill. Stump got his nickname when he played football in high school. During football practice a pulling guard was chastised by the coach for not taking Patterson out.

“Damn, Coach, I'd have more luck knocking over a tree stump,” the young player said. Patterson was stuck with the name Stump, and it had stayed with him. Powerfully built, the onetime linebacker for LSU looked as if he could still put on pads and a helmet, and take the field once more for the purple and gold.

“Kitty!” Stump called into the house. “How are the baked potatoes coming?”

“The potatoes are done,” Kitty said. “So is the salad and bread.”

“Then we are about ready to eat. Have you heard from Arlie and Paula?”

“We're here, Stump,” Arlie Grant said coming out the back door of the house at that moment. Arlie had been a lawyer in the pre-O time, but only lawyers who were proficient in Sharia Law could practice now, and Arlie refused to learn it.

Stump picked the steaks up one by one, then forked them onto a serving platter where they lay brown and glistening in their own aromatic juices.

Kitty and Paula had set the table on the patio and the four sat down for their meal.

“Damn,” Arlie said as he carved into his steak. “It's been a long time since I had a steak like this.”

“We wouldn't have it now if it weren't for Jimmy Barnes,” Stump replied. “I talked him into butchering and selling me a whole cow.”

“Ha. I'm surprised Barnes would accept Moqaddas as payment.”

“He doesn't like accepting them any more than I like using them,” Stump said. “But we don't have any choice.”

“For now,” Arlie said.

Stump was just about to take a bite of his steak, but he put the fork back down and looked across the table at Arlie.

“What do you mean, for now?”

“You've heard of United Free America?”

“Yes, who hasn't? I've been following Gregoire on the Internet. What are you getting at, Arlie?”

Arlie pulled a thumb drive from his pocket and showed it to Stump. “After we eat, I want you to take a look this.”

“All right,” Stump said.

Nothing else was mentioned about the thumb drive until after they had finished their meal. Then they went into Stump's office where Arlie plugged the little memory stick into a USB port, and called it up. On screen was a man, sitting behind a desk, looking into the camera.

“I know him,” Stump said. “That's Major Lantz. We served together in Germany when I was a captain and he was a lieutenant.”

“I know you know him,” Arlie said. “That's one reason I came to you.”

“How are we going to hear him if you two don't stop talking?” Kitty asked.

On screen Lantz began to talk.

“Will Louisiana send a delegation?” Stump asked when the video ended.

“Yes, we are definitely sending a delegation.”

“Who all is on the delegation?”

“I'm hoping you will be on it,” Arlie said. “I am being very selective as to who I contact. As Jake Lantz says in the video, I have to be very careful and contact only those in whom I have great trust, as well as those who I think will be able to make a valuable contribution. That's why I've come to you.”

“Well, I'm flattered and honored, Arlie, that you would think of me.”

“Will you accept the invitation?”

“Yes, I will. I'm curious though, who else is on the delegation?”

Arlie smiled. “So far, just you,” he said.

Stump laughed. “Just me?”

“Yes. I thought that you might have some suggestions and, between the two of us, we could come up with just the right people.”

“How many do you think?”

“The suggestion is that each state bring a delegation of ten.”

“I wonder how many states are being invited.”

Arlie shook his head. “I don't know how many have been invited, and of course, I have no idea how many will respond. It could be that when this is all said and done that Louisiana and Alabama will be the only two states to respond.”

“I would hope that Mississippi does as well,” Stump said. “It would be very hard to form a coalition between us and Alabama, if Mississippi is not a part of it.”

“I'm sure they will be,” Arlie replied.

Chris was walking on the beach when he saw someone coming toward him. Because Chris, and the person approaching him, were the only two on the beach, Chris went on the alert. He pulled a small pistol, a DB9, from his pocket and held it concealed by his side as he and the approaching walker closed the distance between them.

Then he recognized Bryan Gates. What was Gates doing here?

Chris and Gates had been friends for a long time, but he was pretty sure that Gates knew he was the one who killed Rahimi. Was Gates working for the AIRE government? Was he here on an extreme prejudice mission?

Gates held up both hands, palms facing Chris, as he came closer.

“You have nothing to fear,” Gates said.

Chris nodded, then put his pistol back in his pocket. Smiling, he extended his hand.

“What are you doing down here, Bryan?”

“I've come across some information that somebody needs to know,” Bryan said. “And I don't know who I can trust anymore.”

 

 

Half an hour later Chris took Bryan to the fort museum. Bob and Jake were there, and one of them had just said something funny, because both men were laughing.

“Hey, Chris, what's up?” Bob asked when Chris came in. “Who's that with you?”

“This is Bryan Gates, an old friend of mine from the pre-O days. He has an article from
Pravda
that I think you should read.

“
Pravda
? Is it in Russian?”

“Yes,” Chris said. “But Bryan and I both read Russian.”

“Then read it to us.”

Chris, who was carrying the article, read it to them.

“Do either of you have any insight into the article?” Jake asked, after Chris read it.

“My source is convinced that this was not a suicide,” Bryan said. “My source believes that Shaporin was murdered, but Shaporin told him, before he died, that the warheads are missing.”

“According to the article, the computer says they were accounted for,” Bob said.

Jake chuckled. “Ask Willie how hard it is to change the computer.”

“Yes, I guess you have a point there,” Bob said.

“Shaporin was convinced the computer program was wrong because he kept a hard copy count of the warheads in his charge, and he found five missing. He told my source that he had gone to his commander with it, and his commander brushed him off.”

“Brushed him off because he didn't believe him?” Bob asked.

“Perhaps. But Shaporin thought it might be because his commander might have had a hand in it. He thinks they were deliberately taken from the inventory.”

“And you think Shaporin's commander plans to sell those weapons?” Jake said.

“I think he has already sold them.”

“To who? To Ohmshidi?”

What do you know of a man named Warren Sorroto?” Bryan asked.

“Sorroto? Yeah, I've heard of him, who hasn't?” Bob replied. “Gregoire used to call him a ‘spooky dude,' I believe. He's a very wealthy man who financed socialist groups, and some say he had a lot to do with getting Ohmshidi elected in the first place.”

“He had more than just a lot to do with it,” Bryan said. “Ohmshidi would have never been elected if it hadn't been for Sorroto.”

“Is he that much of a left winger?” Jake asked.

Bryan shook his head. “To tell the truth, I don't think he really has any political position other than his own. From what I've been able to learn, he supported Ohmshidi because he knew that Ohmshidi would destroy the country, and he was counting on that.”

“Why in heavens name would anyone want the country destroyed?”

“He made over a hundred billion dollars in the collapse. And now he wants all remaining vestiges destroyed so he can move in and pick up the pieces. That's why I think he is the one who is buying, or perhaps has already bought, five nukes from Russia.”

“Are you telling me that Russia would sell nukes to an individual?” Jake asked.

“Remember, this isn't the Russian government,” Bryan said. “This is a person, or some persons within the government, who have access to the weapons, and are willing to sell them if they are paid enough money. And believe me, Sorroto has enough money.”

“What is your level of confidence in this information?” Chris asked.

“I'd say point niner niner,” Bryan replied. “Considering my source.”

“Yes, you keep talking about your source. But you haven't given him a name yet,” Jake said.

“I'm quite sure that the name won't mean anything to you,” Bryan said. “But I'm equally sure that it will mean something to Chris. My source is Aleksandr Mironov.”

“Damn,” Chris said. “That's a pretty good source.”

“I take it, you know this, Aleksandr Mironov?” Bob asked.

“Yes, I know him. Under the old Soviet regime he was on their United Nations staff, but that was just his cover. He was actually a general in the KGB,” Chris said. “What does he tell you, Bryan?”

“Shaporin, the man who the newspaper article says committed suicide, was Mironov's nephew. According to Mironov, Shaporin came to him with this tale, less than two weeks before he died.”

“Does he know who has the weapons now? Or, how they are being transported?” Jake asked.

“He either didn't know, or he wouldn't say,” Bryan said. “But, Chris, he wants you to meet with someone that you know.”

“Who?” Chris asked.

“Nicolai Petrovitch.”

“Damn,” Chris said with a little chuckle. “It's been a long time since Nicolai and I butted heads.”

“Butted heads?” Bob asked.

“We were in the same business, but on opposite sides. I was CIA, he was KGB.”

“Does he want to meet Chris here?” Jake asked.

“No, he wants to meet in Russia,” Bryan said.

“Chris, I don't know,” Bob said. “I mean, if you guys were enemies for all those years, how do you know you can trust him?”

“I'm certain I can trust him,” Chris said. “In our business, people like Nicolai and I have done a lot of things that the average person may consider immoral—and perhaps they are. But among ourselves, we do have a very strong code of conduct.”

“So you are saying you want to go.”

“It's more than I want to go, Bob. I've got to go. If it is Sorroto we are talking about, and if he gets his hands on these weapons, I don't have the slightest doubt but that he will detonate one of them in Mobile. If he really is planning on picking up the pieces, then he is going to want the whole continent as weak as he can make it and, that means he is going to have to get rid of us, if he can.”

“He's right, Bob. If there is any way we can stop those nukes from getting over here, we're going to have to do it,” Jake said.

“All right,” Bob said. “What will you need?”

“Money to make the trip, then I'll need some walking around money once I get there.”

“How much money?”

“Fifty thousand rubles should do it. That's just a little over fifteen hundred dollars.”

“We don't have any rubles, but we have Swiss Francs.”

“I'll get Willie to look up the exchange,” Jake said.

“It's about the same,” Chris said. “Fifteen hundred Swiss Francs will take of it. Plus airfare over there and back.”

“Sheri Jack is handling our money,” Bob said. “I'll get her right on it.”